A Roller Coaster Built To Crash
Chapter Seven
A Rollercoaster Built To Crash
exchanged innocence;;
Well, my little breakdown had only been brief. Gerard hadn’t even been able to reach a comforting arm around me before I snapped out of my blubbering and wiped my eyes and sniffed away any traces of my sobs. There was something in his eyes that I wasn’t so sure about when I looked up after composing myself. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was almost positive there was disappointment printed across his face. I had tried peeking in his head but found he had completely blocked me. A frown slid across my lips but I gave up easily; reading Gerard wasn’t my top priority at the moment and I think he knew it too.
We were left in an awkward silence. I couldn’t blame Gerard’s silence. What was a person supposed to say? Thankfully, Gerard saved me the uncomfortable conversation starter.
“Uh, I think you should get cleaned up and bandaged,” he finally coughed out. My eyebrow arched and I was about to ask exactly what I needed cleaned before he touched my side softly. “The ones you have on now are days old.”
I nodded and glanced back towards the hallways. Gerard took my wrist and led me halfway down the hall but stopping at a closed door. He turned the knob and held the door open for me. I guess I expected something…well, vampirish. So far, there was nothing in this house that gave away the slightest clue that a bloodsucking monster lived here [I made sure to keep my mind as closed as possible as I thought of all this]. It all just seemed so normal, the walls a calm eggshell color with white trimming on the borders. A toothbrush was hung on a small plastic toothbrush holder near the sink that was also adorned with a small green washcloth that was already damp from earlier use. Towels hung up on towel racks near the shower that had a glass sliding door that blurred the inside. Everything was just so…normal.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I guess I was just so used to dealing with Madonna, who just loved to play up the whole vampire theme. Her walls were crimson and curtains dark while towels always seemed to match her favorite creepy colors. To this day, I still nagged her for having black shower curtains and making it awkward to shower in the dark bathtub.
Gerard was looking at me as I observed his bathroom and smiled at the sight of me giggling at nothing in particular-- at least it seemed that way to him.
“What’re you laughing at?” he prodded, his good natured smile still smacked almost idiotically across his face. I couldn’t complain though. Who seemed like more of the idiot here? Him smiling goofy, or me, laughing out of no where?
Yeah….
“Oh no. It’s just…it’s funny seeing your bathroom look like an up-to-date 2007 restroom is all,” I exclaimed sounding even stupider. Gerard laughed, his head slowly tilting backwards as his nose wrinkled and his teeth peeked out through his pulled back lips. I found this even funnier…and kind of stupider then my reply. He reminded me of a bunny rabbit—an obnoxious rabbit.
“Well what do you expect? Blood splattered across the walls? A body floating in the bathtub?” He was smiling so I guessed it was safe to smile back as well. I had no idea what things he took offensive. Of course I knew about vampires, I was best friends with one of course—but Madonna was a completely different person and I could hardly count her. Gerard was unknown to me.
I just shrugged and rolled the tips of my fingers on the countertop as I stared into the mirror for the first time in days. My lips parted in a silent gaps and I could faintly see Gerard bite his lip guiltily behind me.
“I forgot to worn you it was kinda bad…”
I wanted to turn around and snap at him, “you fucking think so? It’s beyond KINDA!” Instead I just grit my teeth and stared at my ruined face. Gashes that looked about a half a foot long ran down the side of my lips down to my jawline, and my lips, which I had thought were just chapped, were in fact badly scabbed. No wonder my face was so itchy! There were scabs crawling up my face everywhere! If Gerard hadn’t told me the story of my attack on him, I would be considering my change right then and there.
Yes, I could still change into my wolf form. It’d just be very painful and my muscles just couldn’t take another stretching for right now.
As if reading my fury, Gerard quickly added to comfort my ego, “It’ll heal. It’s not so bad…”
Oh God. He wasn’t helping. I know I probably seemed conceited, but wouldn’t you be royally pissed if your face was completely mutilated? My hand softly pulled the side of the t-shirt I had been wearing for-who-knows-how-many-days up slowly. Call me a pitiful excuse of a werewolf, but my stomach twisted when I got a good look at the stiff bandage that was covered with dried blood that had seeped through the material. Gently, I pulled off the bandage that had barely been clinging onto my skin and uncovered the deep gashes Gerard had given me. They were certainly deep. They weren’t even fully scabbed over yet, still fleshy and tender. I was afraid to touch my side, I could already see the blood bubbling to the surface.
I hadn’t realized how long I had been staring at my wounds until I felt a soft touch on my hand that was still holding the side of the t-shirt up. I looked up and Gerard half-heartedly smiled at me, his other hand holding up the fresh bandages suggestively. After taking a moment to consider him bandaging me up, I shook my head and allowed him to wrap the white clothe around my whole lower torso it seemed. He was gentle; he made sure to not touch the tender wounds and run his fingertips across the top of the bandage to make sure it was pressed efficiently against my wound. I just watched his hands do their work. His fingers were long and slender, bending so robotically I wondered if there were wires in his fingers instead of bones. I recalled his short conversations with me and realized he had moved his hands around while he spoke, curling his fingers in and out and waving his hands around him. A smile softly tugs at my lips as I recall his twitching and restless movements and compare them to their now gentle butterfly touches. His emerald green eyes never took their focus from my side, they just were set so intently on the now covered wound and checking for any bumps in the cotton wrap.
“Do you use your hands a lot?” I asked, it was something to break the silence, even if it had been strangely comfortable. Gerard took a quick glance at me, his concentrated pouted lips burst into a small smile as he shook his head before returning his gaze back to his winding hand that continued to wrap the bandage around my lower half. It made me smile bigger to see him on his knees before me, just smiling but distracted.
“I guess, but sadly not for anything intimate,” he sulked playfully. I chuckled and lightly swiped his shoulder causing him to chuckle as well—actually, I wouldn’t say chuckle. More like giggled.
“I wasn’t suggesting any sexual use,” I retorted a bit stiffly out of embarrassment, now realizing how sexually revised my question had become. Gerard seemed to have a boyish sense of humor about him as he still giggled to his own little nasty joke, much like a ignorant preteen going through their most hormonal stage.
“Well, I like to draw a lot,” he said as he began to finish up what looked like the last wrap according to the now short leftover bandage. “And paint. Yes, I guess I do use my hands a lot.”
I nodded silently, skipping over my surprised pointless questions about his artwork. I had known too many artists throughout my lifetime to have anymore interest in art. It had been a long time since I’d been around the art scene. I’d lingered around probably longer then I should have; talk goes around about the supposed twenty-five year old who couldn’t possibly be younger then thirty-five at this point in time and didn’t look a day over twenty still. Such a buzzkill. I was already getting bored of the scene anyways.
“I bet your work is lovely,” I reply, obviously hinting I didn’t need to see his work. This took Gerard’s attention completely from his work. His hand was delicately pressing the cotton down and ready to tape it down but stopped and just rested softly against my side onto of the bandage. Those green eyes looked in mine again. My teeth grazed against the inside of my lip roughly and I had to restrain from shifting awkwardly. I thought I had offended him until he took his gaze away again and patted my bandage down gently a few times before standing back up to hover over me again. He was smiling which threw me off guard. I didn’t know how to tell what that meant.
“Maybe someday you’ll have the interest to take a look,” he said and shrugged. Gerard wasn’t offended. He just….didn’t seem to care. I wondered if he had red my mind again without me noticing but his eyes didn’t show off that bold glint I now identified whenever he read me, he had guessed on his own.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t appreciate art like I used to,” I say as I pull the shirt back down to cover my freshly bandaged side. “Seen too many I guess.”
Gerard just continues to smile down at me. It wasn’t arrogant this time… Then it hit me. It was a weak, pitiful smile. It was one of those it’s-ok-I-understand smiles.
“Life sure does take it’s toll on you eh?” he asked with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped comfortably while my own were perked and strained. “I just never thought you could live long enough to grow tired of art.”
“Imagination doesn’t exist when you lose innocence,” I suggest.
“What? You’re saying you’re not innocent anymore?” Gerard asked. I took a good look in those sparkling green eyes of his and smiled.
“I’m saying, after years of uncontrollably bloodshed, it wears pretty thin,” I say slowly. Gerard slowly frowns and his eyes dart to the floor. He knew what I was talking about. There was no doubt in my mind he knew what bloodshed I spoke of. Almost the same one I experienced, even harder in fact. I could only imagine how many lives he sucked dry on a daily basis to just survive, to meet his blood lusts and cravings.
My hand reaches out and pulls his chin back up to meet my gaze again. I’m still smiling and I know he still has innocence. A lot more then I could ever have—more then I probably ever started out with. He still has hope. I can read it in those eyes of his.
“I can see that your innocence hasn’t quite yet left you Gerard,” I said softly and tapped his nose with my index finger. I was beginning to feel relaxed with him. Gerard smiled and stared deep into my eyes for another moment. I could almost swear he was trying to peek back into my mind, and at that same instant, I could almost feel the slightest bit of purity he had seep into me, giving me a small breath of life I had long ago forgotten I could feel. We smiled back at one another. I couldn’t think of any words to thank him for that quick exchange.
exchanged innocence;;
Well, my little breakdown had only been brief. Gerard hadn’t even been able to reach a comforting arm around me before I snapped out of my blubbering and wiped my eyes and sniffed away any traces of my sobs. There was something in his eyes that I wasn’t so sure about when I looked up after composing myself. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was almost positive there was disappointment printed across his face. I had tried peeking in his head but found he had completely blocked me. A frown slid across my lips but I gave up easily; reading Gerard wasn’t my top priority at the moment and I think he knew it too.
We were left in an awkward silence. I couldn’t blame Gerard’s silence. What was a person supposed to say? Thankfully, Gerard saved me the uncomfortable conversation starter.
“Uh, I think you should get cleaned up and bandaged,” he finally coughed out. My eyebrow arched and I was about to ask exactly what I needed cleaned before he touched my side softly. “The ones you have on now are days old.”
I nodded and glanced back towards the hallways. Gerard took my wrist and led me halfway down the hall but stopping at a closed door. He turned the knob and held the door open for me. I guess I expected something…well, vampirish. So far, there was nothing in this house that gave away the slightest clue that a bloodsucking monster lived here [I made sure to keep my mind as closed as possible as I thought of all this]. It all just seemed so normal, the walls a calm eggshell color with white trimming on the borders. A toothbrush was hung on a small plastic toothbrush holder near the sink that was also adorned with a small green washcloth that was already damp from earlier use. Towels hung up on towel racks near the shower that had a glass sliding door that blurred the inside. Everything was just so…normal.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I guess I was just so used to dealing with Madonna, who just loved to play up the whole vampire theme. Her walls were crimson and curtains dark while towels always seemed to match her favorite creepy colors. To this day, I still nagged her for having black shower curtains and making it awkward to shower in the dark bathtub.
Gerard was looking at me as I observed his bathroom and smiled at the sight of me giggling at nothing in particular-- at least it seemed that way to him.
“What’re you laughing at?” he prodded, his good natured smile still smacked almost idiotically across his face. I couldn’t complain though. Who seemed like more of the idiot here? Him smiling goofy, or me, laughing out of no where?
Yeah….
“Oh no. It’s just…it’s funny seeing your bathroom look like an up-to-date 2007 restroom is all,” I exclaimed sounding even stupider. Gerard laughed, his head slowly tilting backwards as his nose wrinkled and his teeth peeked out through his pulled back lips. I found this even funnier…and kind of stupider then my reply. He reminded me of a bunny rabbit—an obnoxious rabbit.
“Well what do you expect? Blood splattered across the walls? A body floating in the bathtub?” He was smiling so I guessed it was safe to smile back as well. I had no idea what things he took offensive. Of course I knew about vampires, I was best friends with one of course—but Madonna was a completely different person and I could hardly count her. Gerard was unknown to me.
I just shrugged and rolled the tips of my fingers on the countertop as I stared into the mirror for the first time in days. My lips parted in a silent gaps and I could faintly see Gerard bite his lip guiltily behind me.
“I forgot to worn you it was kinda bad…”
I wanted to turn around and snap at him, “you fucking think so? It’s beyond KINDA!” Instead I just grit my teeth and stared at my ruined face. Gashes that looked about a half a foot long ran down the side of my lips down to my jawline, and my lips, which I had thought were just chapped, were in fact badly scabbed. No wonder my face was so itchy! There were scabs crawling up my face everywhere! If Gerard hadn’t told me the story of my attack on him, I would be considering my change right then and there.
Yes, I could still change into my wolf form. It’d just be very painful and my muscles just couldn’t take another stretching for right now.
As if reading my fury, Gerard quickly added to comfort my ego, “It’ll heal. It’s not so bad…”
Oh God. He wasn’t helping. I know I probably seemed conceited, but wouldn’t you be royally pissed if your face was completely mutilated? My hand softly pulled the side of the t-shirt I had been wearing for-who-knows-how-many-days up slowly. Call me a pitiful excuse of a werewolf, but my stomach twisted when I got a good look at the stiff bandage that was covered with dried blood that had seeped through the material. Gently, I pulled off the bandage that had barely been clinging onto my skin and uncovered the deep gashes Gerard had given me. They were certainly deep. They weren’t even fully scabbed over yet, still fleshy and tender. I was afraid to touch my side, I could already see the blood bubbling to the surface.
I hadn’t realized how long I had been staring at my wounds until I felt a soft touch on my hand that was still holding the side of the t-shirt up. I looked up and Gerard half-heartedly smiled at me, his other hand holding up the fresh bandages suggestively. After taking a moment to consider him bandaging me up, I shook my head and allowed him to wrap the white clothe around my whole lower torso it seemed. He was gentle; he made sure to not touch the tender wounds and run his fingertips across the top of the bandage to make sure it was pressed efficiently against my wound. I just watched his hands do their work. His fingers were long and slender, bending so robotically I wondered if there were wires in his fingers instead of bones. I recalled his short conversations with me and realized he had moved his hands around while he spoke, curling his fingers in and out and waving his hands around him. A smile softly tugs at my lips as I recall his twitching and restless movements and compare them to their now gentle butterfly touches. His emerald green eyes never took their focus from my side, they just were set so intently on the now covered wound and checking for any bumps in the cotton wrap.
“Do you use your hands a lot?” I asked, it was something to break the silence, even if it had been strangely comfortable. Gerard took a quick glance at me, his concentrated pouted lips burst into a small smile as he shook his head before returning his gaze back to his winding hand that continued to wrap the bandage around my lower half. It made me smile bigger to see him on his knees before me, just smiling but distracted.
“I guess, but sadly not for anything intimate,” he sulked playfully. I chuckled and lightly swiped his shoulder causing him to chuckle as well—actually, I wouldn’t say chuckle. More like giggled.
“I wasn’t suggesting any sexual use,” I retorted a bit stiffly out of embarrassment, now realizing how sexually revised my question had become. Gerard seemed to have a boyish sense of humor about him as he still giggled to his own little nasty joke, much like a ignorant preteen going through their most hormonal stage.
“Well, I like to draw a lot,” he said as he began to finish up what looked like the last wrap according to the now short leftover bandage. “And paint. Yes, I guess I do use my hands a lot.”
I nodded silently, skipping over my surprised pointless questions about his artwork. I had known too many artists throughout my lifetime to have anymore interest in art. It had been a long time since I’d been around the art scene. I’d lingered around probably longer then I should have; talk goes around about the supposed twenty-five year old who couldn’t possibly be younger then thirty-five at this point in time and didn’t look a day over twenty still. Such a buzzkill. I was already getting bored of the scene anyways.
“I bet your work is lovely,” I reply, obviously hinting I didn’t need to see his work. This took Gerard’s attention completely from his work. His hand was delicately pressing the cotton down and ready to tape it down but stopped and just rested softly against my side onto of the bandage. Those green eyes looked in mine again. My teeth grazed against the inside of my lip roughly and I had to restrain from shifting awkwardly. I thought I had offended him until he took his gaze away again and patted my bandage down gently a few times before standing back up to hover over me again. He was smiling which threw me off guard. I didn’t know how to tell what that meant.
“Maybe someday you’ll have the interest to take a look,” he said and shrugged. Gerard wasn’t offended. He just….didn’t seem to care. I wondered if he had red my mind again without me noticing but his eyes didn’t show off that bold glint I now identified whenever he read me, he had guessed on his own.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t appreciate art like I used to,” I say as I pull the shirt back down to cover my freshly bandaged side. “Seen too many I guess.”
Gerard just continues to smile down at me. It wasn’t arrogant this time… Then it hit me. It was a weak, pitiful smile. It was one of those it’s-ok-I-understand smiles.
“Life sure does take it’s toll on you eh?” he asked with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped comfortably while my own were perked and strained. “I just never thought you could live long enough to grow tired of art.”
“Imagination doesn’t exist when you lose innocence,” I suggest.
“What? You’re saying you’re not innocent anymore?” Gerard asked. I took a good look in those sparkling green eyes of his and smiled.
“I’m saying, after years of uncontrollably bloodshed, it wears pretty thin,” I say slowly. Gerard slowly frowns and his eyes dart to the floor. He knew what I was talking about. There was no doubt in my mind he knew what bloodshed I spoke of. Almost the same one I experienced, even harder in fact. I could only imagine how many lives he sucked dry on a daily basis to just survive, to meet his blood lusts and cravings.
My hand reaches out and pulls his chin back up to meet my gaze again. I’m still smiling and I know he still has innocence. A lot more then I could ever have—more then I probably ever started out with. He still has hope. I can read it in those eyes of his.
“I can see that your innocence hasn’t quite yet left you Gerard,” I said softly and tapped his nose with my index finger. I was beginning to feel relaxed with him. Gerard smiled and stared deep into my eyes for another moment. I could almost swear he was trying to peek back into my mind, and at that same instant, I could almost feel the slightest bit of purity he had seep into me, giving me a small breath of life I had long ago forgotten I could feel. We smiled back at one another. I couldn’t think of any words to thank him for that quick exchange.